


Harry Potter, a magic stone

by TheGoodShipTardis



Series: The Hogwarts School of Wisdom and Wisdom [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Decisions, Diagon Alley, Godric's Hollow, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Hogwarts, London, Magic, Multi, Number Four Privet Drive (Harry Potter), Quidditch, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, The Leaky Cauldron (Harry Potter), Translation, Typos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 00:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoodShipTardis/pseuds/TheGoodShipTardis
Relationships: Dobby & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Petunia Evans Dursley/Vernon Dursley
Series: The Hogwarts School of Wisdom and Wisdom [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216004





	1. A Living Child

Mr. and Mrs. Number four, Dursley, a special car, I’m glad to say they’re completely normal, thank you. They were the last people you expected to be involved in anything strange or mysterious because they couldn’t catch such idiots.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a company called Grinnings. He was a large, decent man with a large mustache but a small neck. Lady. His thin, yellowish back neck was twice as normal. It was very convenient because I spent time watching the neighbors on the garden fence. Durslick had a young son named Dudley and there was no more complex boy for them.

Durslees had everything he wanted, but he also had a secret, and his biggest fear was that someone would find him. They didn’t think anyone who taught the Potters would steal them. Lady. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met in years; In fact, Mrs. Durslick said he doesn’t have a sister just as he doesn’t have a sister.

Her good sister and husband were not as religious as they could have been. Dursley shuddered at what his neighbors would say when Potters took to the streets. Durslees knew The potters also had a son, but they never saw him. This diet was another good reason to keep babies away; Dudley did not want to be associated with such a boy.

Drsley begins our story of a gloomy gray Tuesday when a gentleman and a lady wake up outside in the open, nothing to suggest that something strange and mysterious is about to happen around the country. Dursley sighed as he grabbed his most annoying tie for the job, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped cheerfully as she sat in Dudley's high chair. 

No one noticed the barn with the big tail above the window. 

At half past seven, Shri. Dursley gave a brief explanation. On Dursley's cheek, he tried to say goodbye to Dudley, but failed because Dudley now pretends to throw bullets against the walls. "Little Tyke," cried Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and pulled away from driver number 4.

He noticed the first sign of something unusual on the street corner - a cat reading a map. Mr. Dursley didn't understand what he was seeing for a moment, then bowed his head. Look again. A tabby cat stood in the corner of the house Drive, but there is no map in sight. What he is thinking This should be the advantage of light. Mr. Dursley approached the cat. He looked back. As Mr. Dursley walked down the corner, he watched the cat in the mirror. Now he was reading a sign that said Special Road - No, look at the sign; Cats could not read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley shuddered a little and drove the cat out of his mind. On the way to town, he thought of nothing but the great exercise he had hoped for that day.

But outside the city, the exercises had something else in mind. Sitting in the usual morning crowd, he couldn’t help but notice that many people were wearing strange clothes. Costumed people. Mr. Dursley couldn’t steal people in the funny clothes you saw in your youth! He assumed it was a trivial new fashion. He put his finger on the steering wheel and his eyes squinted at these very close flies. They whisper excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was very angry that the couple had never seen him; Well, the man had to be bigger than him and wear emerald green! His nerve! But Mr. Dursley said it would probably be a trivial trick - these people were obviously collecting things ... yes, that's it. The traffic cleared and minutes later Dursley Grunnings arrived at the parking lot.

Mr. Dursley always sat by the window in the office on the ninth floor. Otherwise he would have a harder time concentrating on rehearsals that morning. The people in the street did it, but he did not see the animals wandering in that daylight; After the owl jumped, they looked at him like an owl. He didn't even see an owl most nights. But Dursley had a perfectly normal morning without an owl. He yelled at five different people. He made several important phone calls and screamed a few more. During lunch he was in a very good mood, stretched his legs and walked around the bakery along the way.

He forgot the people in the clothes until a group of people passed by the bakery. He angered them as he passed. He didn't know why, but they upset him. The crew murmured excitedly, not even the crate could be seen. He grabbed them and grabbed his thumb in the bag to catch a few words of what he said.

"Potters, that's right, I heard that, yes, their son Harry."

The gentleman stopped and Dursley died. Fear overcame him. He turned to sound like he wanted to tell them something, but he thought it through.

He crossed the road, rushed to the office, grabbed the secretary so as not to be upset, picked up the phone, and when he changed his mind, dialed the house number. The receptionist turned and let go of his mustache and thought ... No, he was a fool. Potter was not such an unusual name. He was convinced that there were many people named Potter who had a son named Harry. Think about it, he's not even sure his nephew's name is Harry. He never saw the boy. Maybe Harvey. Or Harold. No sense in telling you now - I don't wanna ruin the surprise. Dursley; He was always upset when he mentioned his sister. She didn't resent her - if she had a sister like that ... but still, those sitting in a dress…

It was very difficult for him to focus on rehearsals that afternoon. When he left the building at five o'clock, he was still uncomfortable and approached someone directly in front of the door. 

"I'm sorry," he sighed and the little old man stumbled. So much A few minutes before Dursley noticed that the man was wearing a purple dress. You don't seem to be bothered by falling to the ground. Instead, he parted his face with the wide smile and voice that made people look like, "Sorry, dear sir, nothing can bother me today! Rejoice, you know - who's gone in the end! Even smugglers like you should celebrate this good luck, happy day!" 

The old man hugged Mr. Dursley in the middle and walked away.

Mr. Dursley sat down. He was greeted by a complete stranger. He also believed they still called him Maggie. He shouted. He imagined things he had never expected before and, not accepting his imagination, quickly got in the car and drove home. 

When the fourth driveway entered his path, the first thing he saw — which didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he had seen that morning. He was now sitting on the wall of his garden. He was sure it was the same; There were similar marks in his eyes. 

"Shoes!" Mr. Dursley said aloud. The cat did not move. Give it a slim look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley. He tried to compose himself and went home alone. Still, he decided not to tell his wife anything.

Lady. Dursley had a nice normal day. After lunch he told her about Bayan's problems. Dudley learned a new word ("No!"). Mr. Dursley works normally. When Dudley was laid to bed, he entered the living room to catch the last evening news:

"Finally, bird watchers everywhere Nowadays, animals behave very abnormally. These hundreds of birds have been seen flying in all directions since sunrise, although the animals usually hunt at night and are rarely seen in daylight. Experts cannot explain why animals suddenly change their way of sleeping. "The reporter let him smile." Most of them are nigu. Now go to Jim McGuffin with the weather forecast. Big owl, is it raining tonight, Jim? "

"Good Ted," I don't know, but it's not just animals that's weird today. Viewers are far from Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee. Instead of the rain I promised yesterday, shooting stars exploded! People may have celebrated Bonfire Night earlier - until next week, not people! But tonight I can promise you a wet night."

Mr. Dursley froze in his chair. Shooting stars all over England? Do animals fly during the day? Nigo people dressed everywhere? And the voice, the mantra about potters... 

Lady. Dursley entered the living room with two cups of tea. It wouldn't work. She has to tell him something. In a panic, he cleared his throat. "Well - Petunia, darling - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As expected, Mrs. Dursley is shocked and angry. Finally, he pretended not to have a sister.

"No," he said quickly. "Why is that?"

“Interesting things in the news,” Mr. Dursley said. "Animals ... shooting stars ... and there were a lot of funny people in town today ..."

"Then?" The lady has been caught. Dursley.

"Well, I thought ... maybe ... this is something to do ... you know ... his crowd."

Miss Dursley with tea from scarred lips. Mr. Dursley wondered if he had the guts to tell him he had heard the name "Potter." He decided not to dare. Instead, "Their son - now Dudley's age, isn't he?"

“Probably,” he said. Dursley is tough.

"What's his name? Howard?"

"Harry. Ugly, if you ask me, a common name."

"Ah, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart pounding terribly. "Yes, I totally agree."

When they went upstairs to sleep, he didn't say a word about it. Lady. Dursley went to Mr. Dursley through the bathroom bedroom window and looked out the front garden. The cat was still there. He looked at the private driver as if waiting for something.

Was he dreaming something? Does all this have anything to do with the Potters? If he did ... they'd find a couple- He didn't think it would be stolen.

Dursley reached out to sleep. Lady. Dursley fell asleep quickly, but Dursley was awake and it came back to him. His last comforting thought before bed, though Potters was involved, he and Mrs. Dursley. The potters knew exactly what he and Petunia thought of them and their species ... he couldn't see how he and Petunia could communicate with anything that could happen - he screamed - he couldn't impress them…

How wrong that was. 

Mr. Dursley may have fallen into a restless sleep, but the cat on the outer wall showed no signs of drowsiness. She sat like a statue, her eyes cut off in the far corner of a private road. There was no big crowd when the car door slammed into a side street or two animals fell out. It was actually almost midnight for the cat to move.

Someone appeared in the corner the cat was watching and suddenly appeared silently, you would think he had fallen off the ground. The cat's tail narrowed its eyes. 

Nothing like this person has ever been seen in a private ride before. He was tall, thin and very old. The money paid for hair and beard was estimated, and both were enough to eat on the belt. He was wearing a long dress, a purple floor-length dress and boots with high buckles. His blue eyes gleamed behind his crescent-shaped glasses, his nose very long and curved as if it had been broken at least twice. That man's name was Albus Dumbledore. 

Albus Dumbledore did not realize that he had been shot in a street where he did not like everything from his name to his shoes. He was looking for something and was busy stealing clothes. But he knew they were watching him because he suddenly saw a cat staring at him from across the street. For some reason, the appearance of the cat was appealing to him. "I should have known," she murmured.

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It was like the weight of a silver cigarette. He opened it, blew it up, picked it up and clicked. The nearest street lamp blew a little. He clicked again - the lamp glowed beside the darkness. Twelve times the putt-uterin clicked on the dome, and the cat's eyes followed it, illuminating the whole street, to two small branches in the distance. Even the pretty-eyed Miss Dursley can now see everything walking the sidewalk if someone looks out the window at her. Dumbledore threw his revolver under his dress and walked to number four, where the cat was sitting on the wall next to her. He did not look at him but addressed him after a while.

"Nice to see you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at Toby, but he was gone. Instead, he smiled at the beautiful woman with a formal face, square glasses, and shaped marks around the cat's eyes. He was wearing a cloak and an emerald. Her black hair is tucked into a tight bun. It looked completely destroyed.

"How do you know this is me?" Asked.

"Dear teacher, I've never seen a cat sit so hard."

“If you sit on a brick wall all day, you’ll be strict,” Professor McGonagall said.

"All day? When can you celebrate? I must have been through a dozen parties and parties on the way here."

Professor McGonagall was very angry.

"Oh, everyone's celebrating, everything's fine," he said impatiently. "You'd think we'd be a little more careful, but no - even Maglis realized something was going on. It was on their news." He pushed his head toward the window of Dursley's dark living room. "I heard that. It made a lot of sense. 

"You can't blame them," Dumbledore said sarcastically. "We have a few dear people to celebrate over eleven years." 

"I know," Professor McGonagall joked. “But we don’t have to lose our heads.

He glared at Dumbledore, hoping to say something, but he didn't, so he continued. "Maglis, if it looks like he's going to disappear eventually, it's weird to find us all. Dumbledore?" 

“Of course it looks that way,” Dumbledore said. "We'll be very grateful. Can you spot a drop of lemon?" 

"Then what?" 

"A lemon is coming out. Tiring desserts for me."

“No, thank you," Professor McGonagall said coldly, not thinking it was the current lemonade. "Like I said, whoever you went--"

"Dear teacher, of course, no one as smart as you can call him that. His name? All that “you-who” wisdom - for eleven years I’ve been trying to persuade people to call their real name Voldemort. "Professor McGonagall has fallen, but it seems to have been noticed by Dumbledore, who opened two drops of lemon." It can get confusing if we keep repeating “Who-you-know”. I see no reason to be afraid to name Voldemort.

"I know," says Professor McGonagall, "you don't feel half provoked and half flattered." But you are different. You know, everything was fine, Voldemort got scared. "

"You make me happy," Dumbledore said calmly. "Voldemort had powers I never had."

\- Because you can't use it.

"Dark and happy. I haven't said much since Madame Pomfrey said I love my new headphones."

Professor McGonagall reminded Dumbledore, "Animals are not close to rumors of flying around. Do you know what everyone was saying? Why did he disappear? What stopped him in the end?"

Professor McGonagall seems to have reached the point where he was most willing to discuss the real reason for living all day in a cold hard wall, as he was no longer furnished with the cat or woman who stabbed Dumbledore. Whatever “everyone” said, it was clear he wouldn’t believe it until he told Dumbledore it was true. However, Dumbledore chose another drop of lemon, but did not respond.

They say Voldemort returned to Godrick's vacancy last night and went to look for the potters.

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall was relieved.

"Lily and James ... I couldn't believe ... I don't want to believe ... Oh, Albus ..."

Dumbledore shrugged. "I know ... I know ..." he said hard.

His voice trembled as Professor McGonagall came out. "No. They say Potter tried to kill his son, but - he can't. He couldn't kill that boy.

Dumbledore grabbed.

"This - is that so?" Professor McGonagall has been deceived. "Finally ... they all died ... couldn't they have killed the little boy? It's shocking ... anything that could have stopped him ... but how did Harry escape in the name of heaven?"

“We can only speculate,” Dumbledore said. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and slapped her eyes under her glasses. When I pulled a gold watch out of my pocket and checked it, Dumbledore gave off a beautiful scent. It was a very strange clock. He had twelve hands, but no numbers; Instead, several planets are moving toward the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid is late. Did he tell you I'd be here?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't think you can tell me why you're here everywhere."

"I came to take Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family left now."

"You don't mean that - can you understand the people who live here?" Professor McGonagall jumped to number four and shouted. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You can't find two people like us. They have these sons - I saw his mother beating him across the street and screaming for candy. Here!"

“This is the best place for him,” Dumbledore said firmly. "When my aunt and uncle are older, she can explain everything to him. I wrote them a letter."

"Letter?" Professor McGonagall sat against the wall and repeated aloud. "Actually, Dumbledore, can you explain it in writing? These people will never understand it! I wouldn't be surprised if this celebrity - a legend - is called the future days of Harry Potter today - they have books written about Harry - every child in our world knows his name ! "

“Exactly,” Dumbledore said, looking seriously at his crescent-shaped glasses. "Just turn your head to any child. It's familiar before he walks and talks! He's known for something he doesn't remember!

Professor McGonagall opened his mouth, changed his mind, swallowed, and said, "Yes — yes, you're right, but how did the boy get here, Dumbledore?" Thinking he might be hiding under Harry, he immediately fired his jacket.

"Bring it to Hagrid."

"Do you think it's wise to trust Hagrid in such an important matter?"

“I will trust Hagrid in my life,” Dumbledore said.

“I’m not saying your heart isn’t in the right place, but Professor McGonagall said sternly,“ But you can’t pretend to be careless with it. Striving for it - what was it? "

A surprisingly quiet noise broke the silence around them. As they searched for some headlight signs up and down the street, they grew out of order; The two of them scream looking at the sky - a giant motorcycle falls from the sky and descends to the road leading in front of them.

If the motorcycle is too big, the man sitting nearby doesn’t care. It was twice as big and at least five times wider than a normal person. She looked incredibly big, so wild — long black hair, a beard that covered most of her face, and leather shoes like holes and legs with little dolphins the size of trash cans. In his large muscular arms he held a pile of blankets.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore said. "Finally. Where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, carefully dismounting from the motorcycle. "Young Sirius Black borrowed me. So did I, sir."

"It's okay, isn't it?"

"No, sir - the house was almost destroyed, but I took it out before Maglis began to wander. He fell asleep as he flew over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall leaned against the blanket. Inside, as you can see now, was a little boy who was fast asleep. One  
They could see dark blue hair on his forehead.  
Shape cut like lightning.

"where is this--?" Professor McGonagall preached. "Yes," Dumbledore said. "That scar will stay forever."

"Dumbledore, can you do something?"

"I can, but I can't. I can take advantage of the injuries. There's a great map of the London Underground on my left knee."

Dumbledore took Harry's hand and returned to Dursley's home. 

"Can I say goodbye to him, sir?" Hagrid asked. He nodded at Harry and gave him a very lively and lively kiss. Hagrid suddenly sounded like a wounded dog.

"Error!" Professor McGonagall said, "Wake up Muglin!" He said.

"S-S-I'm sorry," Hagrid relaxed, pulled out a large, freckled handkerchief, and rammed his face into it. "But I can't stand C-C Lily, James is dead--" Poor little Harry lives far away with Maglis--"

"Yes, yes, it's all so sad, but Hagrid, hold on to yourself or we'll find him," Professor McGonagall whispered, squeezing Hagrid's hand as Dumbledore moved across the low garden wall. Door. Harry reached out lightly on the doorstep, took the letter from his dress and put it in Harry's blanket, then turned to the other two. The three of them stood for a minute, staring into the small air; Hagrid's shoulders trembled, and Professor McGonagall blinked angrily as if the bright pink light from Dumbledore's eyes had faded.

"Okay," Dumbledore finally said, "That's it. We don't have a job here. We can also attend festivals."

"Yes," said Hagrid in a very muddy voice, "I will return Sirius's bicycle. Take a walk, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Hagrid shook his motorcycle and started the engine as his eyes slid through the sleeve of his jacket; He ascended to heaven and night, screaming.

“See you soon, I hope Professor McGonagall,” Dumbledore said looking at him. Professor McGonagall blinked in response.

Dumbledore turned and walked down the street. He stood in the corner and removed the limestone that had been placed in the silver. Once clicked and the Twelve Light Pebbles returns to the street lights, so the special driver quickly flashes orange and the thin cat glides across the street. In the fourth stage, he could see a bundle of blankets.

"Good luck, Harry," he laughed. On leaving, he turned the heel of his dress over his heel.

A strong wind was blowing on the beautiful private driveway that stretches quietly and cleanly under the dim sky, the last place you can expect to breathe a breath-taking breath. Harry Potter rolled into his blanket before falling asleep. She covered a small hand of letters next to her and, not knowing that she was special, not knowing that she was famous, not knowing that she would wake up in a few hours if she cried. For the next few weeks, he would pinch his cousin Dudley with his sword as he opened the front door to retrieve bottles of Dursley's milk ... He didn't know that the people he met secretly kept glasses all over the country. He says in a throaty voice, "Harry Potter - the living boy!"


	2. Invisible Glass

It has been almost ten years since Dar es Lees woke up and found his nephews on the stairs, but the private journey has not changed. In the same old clean gardens the sun was rising and rice number four was burning on Darslice's front door; He entered the living room and when Dursley saw that crucial news about the owl, the night was almost the same. Only the photos on the cover showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there were a lot of movies that looked like A. A big pink beach ball in hats of different colors - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photos show a big cute boy riding his first bike playing a computer game for Dad on a carousel at the fair. He hugged and kissed his mother. There was no indication that another child was staying in the room.

Harry Potter was there though, he was asleep now, but not for long. Petunia's aunt was wary and her loud voice made the first sound of the day.

"Get up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke up with a twitch. My aunt knocked on the door again.

"Up!" She cried. Harry heard him enter the kitchen, then the sound of a frying pan. She passed him In return, he tries to remember the dream. that was good. There was a motorcycle inside. He had a strange feeling that he had dreamed the same dream before.

My aunt was at the door.

"You haven't come yet?" He insisted.

"Probably," Harry said.

"Okay, go ahead, I want you to look at the bacon. Don't you dare burn it. I want everything to be perfect for Dad's birthday."

Harry sighed.

"what did you say?" He knocked on his aunt's door.

"Nothing ..."

Dudley's birthday - how could he forget? Harry slowly got out of bed and started looking for socks. Find a pair under his bed, remove the spider from one and put it on it. Harry was used to spiders because the closet under the stairs was full of them and he slept there.

As I got dressed, I went from the living room to the kitchen. The list was almost hidden under all of Dudley's birthday presents. Dudley seems to have bought a new computer not allowing another TV and a racing bike. It’s a secret to Harry that Dudley wants a racing bike because Dudley is so fat and hates exercising - of course, that doesn’t involve hitting anyone. Harry was Dudley's favorite punching bag, but most of the time he couldn't catch it. Harry didn't look at him, but he was too fast.

It may have something to do with living in a dark closet, but Harry was always short and thin. He was shorter and thinner than he actually was. Dudley was four times his size because Dudley wore only old clothes. Harry had a thin face, full knees, black hair and green eyes. He wore round glasses and a lot of scotch tape because Dudley always held him by the nose. What Harry liked about his appearance was the very thin lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. It took as long as she remembered, and Petunia asked her aunt's first question how she got to her.

“When your parents died, you had a car accident,” he said. - And don't ask.

Don't ask - this was the first rule of a peaceful life with the Durslices.

Uncle Vernon went to the kitchen on Harry Bacon's return. "To comb!" He shook his head in the morning greeting.

Uncle Vernon looked at his newspaper once a week and shouted that Harry should get a haircut. Harry certainly had more hairstyles than the other kids in the class, but it didn't matter that his hair grew that way everywhere.

Harry was frying eggs when Dudley came into the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, nothing more than his height, small blue eyes and thick blonde hair that was smooth on a thick, plump head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley was like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley was like an angel Pig with a wig.

Harry put eggs and bacon on the table, which was difficult because space was limited. Meanwhile, Dudley was counting his gifts. His face fell off.

He said, "Thirty-six," looking at Mom and Dad. "Two missing compared to last year."

"Darling, you didn't count Aunt Marge's gift. Look, under that big mom and dad gift."

"Well, thirty-seven," Dudley said, his face turning red. Harry could see the big stranger coming from Dudley, and as soon as Dudley turned the table, he started making a wolf out of bacon.

Petunia's aunt also had an accident because she immediately said, "When we go out today, we can bring you two more presents. How about that, Popkin? Two more presents. Is that right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It seemed like hard work. Finally he said quietly, "I mean thirty ... thirty ..."

"Thirty-nine, candy," Petunia's aunt said.

"Ah." Dudley sat up slowly and grabbed the nearest package. "Then it's all right."

Uncle Vernon giggled. "Little Tyke needs his money like his father. 'Atta Boy, Dudley!' He cut Dudley's hair.

At that moment, the phone rang and Petunia's aunt answered and saw Harry and Uncle Vern turn off Dudley's race bike, video camera, remote-controlled plane, sixteen new computer games, and VCR. Petunia's aunt was pulling a piece of paper from her gold watch when she returned from the phone in anger and panic.

“Bad news, Vernon,” he said. "Miss Fig broke her leg. She can't stand it." He shook his head in Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth opened horribly, but Harry's heart skipped a beat. Every year on Dudley’s birthday, his family takes him and a friend to adventure parks, burgers or movies. Harry was with Miss every year. The figure is a crazy old woman living in two streets. Harry hated him there. Cabbage whole house and Mrs. He looked at photos of all the cats he owned.

"What now?" Petunia's aunt said it provoked Harry as planned. Harry, Mrs. Figin had a broken leg, but it wasn't easy to remember that it would take a year to see Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Pavs, and Tuffy again.

“We can look for a margin,” Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be a fool, Vernon, he hates that child."

Dwarves often refer to Harry as if he weren't there - or like a snail too bad to be understood.

"What's his name, your friend - Yvonne?"

Petunia's aunt shouted, "She's on vacation in Mallorca."

“You can leave me here,” Harry said hopefully (see what he needs on TV for a change and try out Dudley’s computer).

It was as if Petunia's aunt had swallowed a lemon.

"Go back and see if the house is broken." He hid it.

"I'm not going to tear down the house," Harry said, but they weren't paying attention.

"We can take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia, "... leave him in the car ..."

"He's new in the car, he's not just sitting in it ..."

Dudley began to cry loudly. He doesn't really cry - he's been crying for years - but he knew his mother would give him everything he needed if he cried and cursed.

"Dinky Daddydams, don't cry, Mom won't let you ruin your special day!" The woman screamed and her arms flew around.

"I ... no ... no ... that ... T-T-come on!" Dudley screamed loudly, the voices mimicking. "Always destroy everything!" Harry laughed ugly from the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then the doorbell rang - "Oh God, they've arrived!" Petunia's aunt - a minute later, Dudley's best friend Pierce Polkis said he was walking with his mother. Pierce was a handsome man with a rat-like face. Usually he was the one holding Dudley's hands behind him. Dudley immediately stopped pretending to cry.

Incredibly half an hour later, for the first time in his life, Harry found Pierce and Dudley sitting in the back of Dearsley's car on their way to the zoo. Aunt and Uncle couldn't think of anything else with him, but Vernon replaced Uncle Harry before they left.

"I'm warning you," he added a big purple face to Harry's things, "boy - any joke business, anything - I'm warning you now, you'll be on this shelf by Christmas."

“I’m not going to do anything,” Harry said, “honestly.

Uncle Vernon didn't believe it. Nobody is.

The problem is that strange things often happen around Harry and it’s not good to tell the Dwarves not to happen.

Once, tired of Harry returning from the barber shop, Aunt Petunia took kitchen scissors and cut her hair very briefly, leaving her almost naked, except for the clothes she took off to cover up. That terrible wound. "Dudley mocked Harry, who had a sleepless night the next day dreaming of school, where he was already laughing at his loose clothes and glasses. But the next morning he woke up a week to find his hair in his closet. Like Petunia's aunt did it before what she cut, he couldn't explain.she tried to explain.

In another case, Petunia’s aunt tried to get her from Dudley into a revolutionary old jumper (brown with orange puffles) - she tried to pull him over her head, she seemed to fall, and eventually became a hand puppet. but it definitely didn't suit Harry. Petunia's aunt decided to cut herself in the laundry, and Harry was not punished for her relief.

On the other hand, he was deeply disturbed by what he found on the roofs of school kitchens. Surprising Harry, like everyone else, Dudley's group often followed him as he sat on the chimney. Durslees received a very disturbing letter from Harry's principal that Harry had climbed into the school buildings. But what he was trying to do (as he yelled at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his closet) was jump behind the big trash cans in front of the kitchen door. Harry had to catch the wind in the middle of the jump.

But nothing is going wrong today. To spend a day without a school, closet, or living room with the scent of Miss Cabbage should be with Dudley and Pierce. Sl.

Uncle Vernon complained to Petunia's aunt while driving. He liked to complain about some things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry are just some of his favorite topics. It was motorcycles this morning.

"... screaming like crazy young bullies," the motorcycle said as he passed them.

"I dreamed of a motorcycle," Harry suddenly remembered. "He flew."

Dudley and Pierce stood up.

"I know they didn't," Harry said. "It was just a dream."

But he doesn't want to say anything. If it’s something that lecturers hate more than the questions they ask, look at everything he shouldn’t be doing, dreaming about or drawing - anything he thinks might jeopardize him.

The zoo was full of family because it was a very sunny Saturday. Darlesley Dudley and Pierce took a large chocolate ice cream from the door, and then a smiling woman in the van asked Harry what he wanted before he hurried, so they bought cheap lemon ice cream. Not bad, Harry thought, and he looks great like Dudley, a gorilla scratching his head, but he's not pretty.

Harry had his best morning after a long time. Dudley and Pierce, tired of the animals at lunch, made sure to get a little away from his back. They had dinner at the zoo's restaurant, and since Dudley's victory at Knickerbocker wasn't enough ice cream in his head, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and let Harry finish first.

Then Harry thought it was too good to be true.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cold and dark there, with bright windows in all the walls. Behind the glass, lizards and snakes of all kinds crawled to the ground with wood and stones. Dudley and Pierce wanted big, poisonous cobras and fat pythons to destroy a man. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the area. He could have packed Uncle Vernon's car twice and thrown it in the trash - but now he's not looking inside. Mood. He was really asleep.

Dudley looked at the light brown coils and pressed his nose to the glass.

"Move" looked at his father. Vernon stabbed his uncle in the glass, but the snake did not germinate.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon cleverly tapped the glass with his knuckles, but the snake remained free.

"Boring," Dudley sighed. Mixed.

Harry stepped in front of the tank and looked carefully at the snake. He wouldn't be surprised to die of boredom — except for the idiots who had been trying to harass him all day, pointing fingers at his glass. Worse than having a closet as a bedroom, my Aunt Petunia visited you with a hammer at the door; He had to at least visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its closed eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he raised his head until his eyes were aligned with Harry.

So much.

Harry looked up. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone was paying attention. They are not. He turned to the snake and closed his eyes.

The snake nodded to Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then looked up at the ceiling. He made a very clear statement to Harry:

"I understand that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured, unsure if the snake had heard, but he murmured out the window. "It must be really boring."

The snake shook its head violently.

"Where are you from anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake bit its tail for a small trail near the glass. Harry looked at him.

Boa Constructor, Hotel Brazil.

"Was it good there?"

The widower loosened his tail on the symbol again and Harry read: This specimen was bred at the zoo. "Oh, I understand - so you've never been to Brazil?"

When the snake nodded, a deafening scream from Harry's back prompted the two of them to jump.

"Dudley! Mr. Darsley! Come see this snake! You can't create what it does!"

Dudley turned to them as fast as he could.

"You're out," he said, stabbing Harry in the ribs. Surprised, Harry fell to the concrete floor. What happened then happened so fast that no one could see how it was - Pierce and Dudley approached the window for a moment, then bounced terribly.

Harry sat down; The glass facade of the impact tank is gone. The giant snake suddenly got dirty and threw itself on the ground. People all over the reptile house started screaming and running to get out.

When the snake passed him and ran away, Harry said, "Brazil, here I am ... Thanksgiving, Amigo!"

The maid of reptiles was shocked.

"But the glass." Where did the glass go? "

The director of the zoo made strong sweet tea for Aunt Petunia. Only Gibber can do that for Pierce and Dudley. As far as Harry could see, the snake wasn't teasing them, but when everyone got into Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley told them how to bite them on the legs and while he was cursing, Pierce tried to kill him. But worst of all, for Harry, "Harry talked to him, didn't he?"

Uncle Vernon waited for Pierce to leave the house safely before climbing on Harry. It was hard to talk because he was angry. She managed to say “go - to the closet - wait - no food” before she fell into a chair, and Petunia rushed over to her aunt and had to build a great awareness of the brand.

Harry called for an hour and lay in his dark closet for a long time. He didn't know what time it was and couldn't confirm that Dursley would be asleep again. He can't enter the kitchen to eat until they arrive.

She lived with Doris Lees for ten miserable years for ten years, and died in a car accident while her family was a child. He does not remember being in the car when his family died. Sometimes, when his memory ran out for long hours in the closet, he would create an unusual image: a blinding glow of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. He couldn't imagine where the green light was coming from, but he thought it was dangerous. He could never remember his family. Aunt and uncle never mentioned them and of course forbade him to ask questions. There were no pictures in the house.

When Harry was young, he dreamed that an unknown cousin had come for him, but it never happened; Durslees was his only family. Sometimes he thought (or expected) that strangers on the street would recognize him. They were also very strange strangers. The man in the purple hat curled up once while shopping with Petunia's aunt and Dudley. After angrily asking Harry if he knew the person, Aunt Petunia kicked them out of the store and bought nothing. A wild old man once dressed in green happily mistreated him on a bus. Yesterday a bald man in very long purple dresses shook hands in the street and then walked away without a word. The strange thing about it all was that Harry tried to approach a second time, disappeared.

Harry had no one at school. Everyone knows the Dudley crew hates Harry Potter in old baggy clothes and broken glasses, and no one likes to get along with Dudley’s crew.


	3. Letters to All

The escape of the Brazilian coup brought Harry the longest sentence ever. When he got off the shelf again, summer vacation had begun, and Dudley had already smashed his new video camera, smashed the remote-controlled plane, and smashed old Missy for the first time with a racing bike. Character. When passing a private driver with crutches.

Harry was glad the school was over, but Dudley's team failed to escape and visited the house every day. Pierce, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were wonderful and stupid, but Dudley was a leader because of his size and insignificance. Everyone is happy to join Dudley’s favorite sport, Harry Hunting.

So Harry spent as much time outside the house as possible, thinking about the end of the holidays and seeing a ray of hope there. By September, he was going to high school and not for the first time in his life. With Dudley. Dudley was admitted to Uncle Vernon's former private melting school. Pierce Polkis also went there. Harry, go on. On the other hand, he attends Stonewall High School, a local public school. Dudley thought it was a lot of fun.

“They’ve been filling people’s toilets with toilets since their early days at Stonewall,” he told Harry. "Come practice?"

"No, thank you," Harry said. "A bad toilet wasn't as scary as a bowed head - it could be sick." He ran before he could do as Dudley said.

One day in July, Petunia took Aunt Dudley to London to buy her a Smeltings uniform, and Harry was sent to Mrs. Sl. Lady. Be as bad as ever. He says his leg was broken on top of one of the cats and he didn’t like them as much as before. He let Harry watch television and gave him a few years of chocolate brown.

That night, Dudley in his new uniform walked through the family living room. The melted boys wore burgundy coats with tails, orange ankles, and plain straw hats, called brodari. They also carried fake batons with which the teachers fought without looking. This should be a good education in later life.

Uncle Vernon looked horribly at Dudley in his new pants, saying it was the proudest moment of his life. Petunia's aunt burst into tears, saying she couldn't believe she was Ikele Dudlikins, that she was very handsome and mature. Harry couldn't believe he was talking to himself. He thought that maybe two of his ribs had already been broken from trying not to laugh.

When Harry came in for breakfast the next morning, he smelled a horrible smell in the kitchen. He came out of a large metal pipe in the sink. He went to look. The pipe was full like dirty rags floating in gray water.

"What is that?" Petunia asked her aunt. She pursed her lips as always when asked to ask questions.

“Your new school uniform,” he said.

Harry looked at the bowl again.

"Oh," I didn't want him to get wet.

"Don't be silly," cried Petunia's aunt. "I'll paint you some Dudley antiques. When I do, it'll look like everyone else."

Harry was seriously suspicious about it, but he better not argue. He sat at the table and tried not to think about what he would look like on the first day of Stonewall High - apparently dressed in old ivory.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon had a runny nose from the smell of Harry's new clothes. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual. Dudley carried a melting stick everywhere.

They heard a click in the mail slot and the cracking of letters on the doormat.

"Dudley, take the mail," Uncle Vernon said from behind the newspaper. "Do it for Harry."

"Bring the mail, Harry."

"Do Dudley."

"Dudley, stab him with your incense stick."

Harry Smelter took the stick and went to get the mail. Three things lie on the bed: a postcard with a brown blanket that looks like the invoice of Uncle Vernon, Marge, who was on vacation on the Isle of Wight - a letter to Harry.

Harry took something and looked at it, his heart pounding like a huge rubber band. No one has written to him in his life. Who will it be? He had no friends or relatives - he wasn’t involved in the library, so he didn’t even have bad grades like looking for books back. However, it is clearly stated here that no mistakes must be made in the letter:

H. Mr. Potter.  
Shelves under the shelves  
4 Private driving  
A little whistle  
Sir

The armor was thick and heavy, made of yellowish paper, and the address was written in emerald green ink. No seal.

When the lid turned and Harry shook hands, Harry saw a crimson wax seal on the coat of arms; Lion, eagle, badger, h.

"Come quickly boy!" cried Uncle Vernon from the kitchen.

"What are you doing, check the letter bombs?" Catch your own joke.

Harry returned to the kitchen and continued to look at his letter. He handed Bill and the postcard to Uncle Vernon, sat down, and gently opened the yellow curtain.

Vernon opened Uncle Bill in disgust and slipped off the postcard.

“Margin is sick,” he told Petunia’s aunt. "Funny response to abuse ..."

"Father!" Dudley said quickly. "Dad, there's something about Harry!"

Writing on the same heavy paper as the cover, Harry was about to expand his letter, and Uncle Vernon suddenly threw it out of his hand.

"It's mine!" He said Harry was trying to keep him.

"Who's writing to you?" Uncle Vernon sighed, opened the letter with one hand, waved, and looked at it. His face turned from red to green faster than a traffic light. It didn't stop there. Within seconds it turned to the grayish-white color of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" He relaxed.

They looked at each other, forgetting that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley was not used to being ignored. He melted his head with a sharp touch on his father.

“I want to read that letter,” he said aloud. I want to read, ”Harry said angrily,“ he’s like mine. "

"You two are going out," Uncle Vernon stuffs the letter back into the envelope.

Harry didn't move.

I want my letter! He cried.

"Let me see!" Dudley struggled.

"Out!" Uncle Vernon ran, knocked Harry and Dudley by the neck, and knocked on the back of the kitchen door from the hallway. There was a fierce and quiet battle between Harry and Dudley over who would hear the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses rolling over one ear, stretched out his belly to hear the crack between the door and the floor.

"Vernon," said Aunt Petunia in a trembling voice, "look at the address — how can I know where she sleeps? Don't you think they're looking at the house?"

“Maybe watching - spying - follows us,” Uncle Vernon said wildly.

"But Vernon, what do we do? Rewrite it? Tell them we don't want to--"

Harry could see Unko Vernon's shiny black shoes gathered up and down the kitchen.

“No,” he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer ... yes, that's good ... we won't do anything.

"Ali -"

"I won't buy it at home, Petunia! Haven't we sworn that when we get it it will remove dangerous sight?"

When Uncle Vernon returned from work that night, he had done something he had never done before; He visited Harry in the closet.

"Where's my letter?" Harry said the moment Uncle Vernon knocked on the door. "Who's writing to me?"

Uncle Vernon immediately said, "No one. I was mistaken." - I got burned.

"It's not a mistake," Harry said angrily, "my locker is open."

"Come back!" Uncle Vernon's uncle and two spiders fell from the ceiling. He took several deep breaths and forced his face to smile, which was absolutely painful.

"Yes - Harry - for this closet. Your aunt and I were thinking ... You'll be a little bigger for that ... We think you'd better not go to Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why is that?" Harry said.

"Don't ask me questions!" He kicked his uncle. "Take this now."

Dursley's house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia for visitors (Uncle Vernon's sister, usually Marg) and the other for the bedroom where Dudley kept all his toys and belongings. First bedroom. Harry traveled upstairs to take everything in his closet to this room. He sat on the bed and looked around. Almost everything here is broken. A month-old video camera stood on top of a small tank with which Dudley ran over a neighbor's dog; On the corner was Dudley’s first TV when his favorite show was canceled; Dudley, a large bird of prey, once caught a parrot which he replaced at school with a real air rifle, Dudley leaned over the stand as he sat on it. The other shelves were full of books. They were the only thing that never touched the room.

Dudley's voice went down to his mother, I don't want him to come in ... I want him to ... take that room out ...

Harry sighed and lay down on the bed. Yesterday he would give me something to stand on. Today, he would rather go back to his closet with that letter than come here without it.

Everyone was a little quiet for breakfast the next morning. Dudley was shocked. She cried, threw her father with a mallet, deliberately fell ill, trampled her mother and dragged the turtle off the roof of the greenhouse, but the room did not return. Harry thought about this time yesterday and asked for the letter to be opened in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia continued to stare into the darkness.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon tried to be kind to Harry, persuading Dudley to take him away. Downstairs they heard him screaming with his scent. Then "There's something else!" To yell. G. H. Potter, small bedroom, 4 private drivers - "

With a sigh, Uncle Vernon jumped up from his seat and left the hallway with Harry behind him. Vernon had to take Uncle Dudley to the field to get the letter, and Harry had trouble holding Uncle Vernon by the back of the head. After a moment of confusion, Uncle Vernon, who had beaten everything with a melting stick, straightened up and held Harry's letter in his hand in relief.

"Get in your closet - in your bedroom," he said before Harry's wheels. "Dudley - go - go."

Harry headed for his new room. Someone knew he was coming out of his closet and they knew he hadn’t received the first letter. Does that mean he will surely try again? This time they will make sure they don't fail. He had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang the next morning at six. Harry closed quickly and sighed softly. That shouldn't wake Dursley. He went down without turning on the lights.

He would wait for the postman in the corner of the special driver and get the letters number four first. His heart pounded as he crawled down the dark hallway to the front door -

Harry jumped into the air; He ran into something big and broke the doormat - something alive!

The lights came on and Harry realized that his uncle's face was horrible, big, straight. Vernon Encle lay in a sleeping bag under the front door, making it clear that Harry wasn't doing exactly what he was trying to do. For half an hour he shouted at Harry and told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry miserably entered the kitchen and when he returned the mail he reached Uncle Vernon's lap.

Harry could see three letters in green ink.

"I want—" he began, but Uncle Vernon mocked the letters before his eyes. Uncle Vernon did not go to work that day. He stayed at home and got stuck in the mailbox.

"Look," Petunia explained to her aunt in her mouth, "If I can't deliver, she'll go."

"I'm not sure it's going to work, Vernon."

Trying to drive nails into Aunt Petunia's stone, Uncle Vernon said, "Oh, the minds of these people seem strange, Petunia, they're not like you and me."

Harry received at least a dozen letters on Friday. They failed to get through the post office opening, were pushed through the door, passed to the side, and several were even forced down a small window in the bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed home again. After burning all the letters, he approached the hammer and nail and entered and broke out and smashed the door. As he worked, he muttered “I’m running my fingers through the tulips” and jumped at the quiet sounds.

Things went awry on Saturday. Twenty-four letters sent to Harry found their way home, opened and hid in two dozen eggs. Confused milkmaid Petunia threw her aunt out the living room window. When Uncle Vernon angrily called the post office and tried to find someone to complain to, Petunia’s aunt tore the letters from the food processor.

"Who wants to talk bad about it?" Dudley asked Harry in surprise.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table, happy, exhausted, and uncomfortable.

“No mail on Sunday,” he happily reminded them, “there are no bad letters today—” as he handed out marble in the newspaper.

During the conversation, something went wrong on the kitchen chimney. Suddenly he grabbed the back of his head. The next minute, thirty or forty letters came out of the oven like bullets. The dorsals sank, but Harry jumped into the air and tried to catch someone.

"! Tt! U Tt!"

Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry in the middle and threw him into the hallway. Uncle Vernon closed the door as Petunia's aunt and Dudley ran their hands over their faces. They could hear the letters bouncing off the walls and floor into the room.

Trying to speak calmly, Uncle Vernon said, “There are also big bumps on the mustache. You are all ready to leave in five minutes. We're leaving. Just collect a few clothes. No discussion! "

It looked dangerous because he was missing half a mustache and no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they got into the car through the entrance door and quickly reached the state highway. Dudley snuck into the back seat; His father hit him as he tried to put a TV, VCR and computer in his sports bag.

They run. They run. Not even Petunia's aunt dared ask where they were going. Sometimes Uncle Vernon would suddenly turn around and move in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake ... shake them In the distance he mutters every time he does.

They did not stop eating and drinking all day. Dudley screamed at dusk. He had never had such a bad day in his life. He’s hungry, he lost five TV shows he wanted to watch and he wouldn’t have gone that far without an alien explosion on his computer.

Uncle Vernon finally stopped in front of a dark hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with double beds and damp and dark bedding. Dudley was angry, but Harry was awake, sitting at the top of the DC window, looking at the car passing by the light and wondering ...

The next day they ate old cereals and cold canned tomatoes on breakfast toast. It’s over when the hotel owner comes to their table.

"" Use me, but one of you, Mr. H. Potter? There is only one of them at the reception. "

He received a letter to read the address of the green ink:

H. Mr. Potter.  
Room 17  
Hotel Railwayview  
Cockworth

Harry joked about the letter, but Uncle Vernon waved it off. The woman was watching.

"I'll take them," Uncle Vernon said, getting up and following him out of the dining room.

"Darling, isn't it good to go home?" A few hours later, Petunia's aunt suggested a schedule, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear about it. None of them knew exactly what they were looking for. He drove them into the middle of the woods, got out, looked around, nodded, got back to the car, and ran away again. The same thing happened in the middle of the field, over the suspension bridge and at the top of the multi-storey garage.

"My dad's crazy, isn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia to leave that afternoon. Uncle Vernon parked on the shore, locked everything in the car and disappeared.

It started to rain. Large drops hit the roof of the car. Dudley snapped.

“It’s Monday,” he told his mother. "Great Humberto tonight. I have to stay where the TV is."

Monday. Something reminded me. If it was Monday - you usually rely on Dudley to know the days of the week for television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, would be Harry’s eleventh birthday. Of course, her birthdays weren’t fun - last year Dursley gave her a hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon came back and smiled. He also carried a long and thin package, and Aunt Petunia did not answer the question of what she had bought.

"Suitable place found!" He said. "Come on! Everybody out!"

The outside of the car was very cold. Uncle Vernon pointed out that it looks like a big rock in the ocean. Lying on a rock was the most annoying little hell you could imagine. One thing was for sure, there was no TV.

"Storm forecast tonight!" Said Uncle Vernon with joy. "This gentleman has agreed to lend us his ship!"

An toothless old man approached them and with a wicked smile jumped into the iron-gray water under the old boat.

"I already have some parts," Uncle Vernon said, "so they're all on the plane!"

It was frozen on board. The icy sea and rain hit their necks, and a cold wind blew on their faces. After a few hours, they reached the rock on which Uncle Vernon had fallen and cleared the way to the collapsed house.

The interior was great; The smell of seaweed whistled through the cracks in the wooden walls, and the stove was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

It turned out that Uncle Vernon's parts were a bag of chips and four bananas. He tried to light a fire, but the empty bags of chips just smoked and shrank.

"Can he make any of these letters now?" She said good luck.

He was in a very good mood. He clearly believed that no one had a chance to come here in a storm of mail delivery. Although the thought did not appeal to him at all, Harry accepted it privately.

When night falls, the promised storm blows around them. An explosion of high waves hit the walls of the hut, and a strong wind blew through the dirty windows. In another room, Aunt Petunia found moldy blankets and made a bed for Dudley in the red dining room. She and Uncle Vernon approached the next bed and found the floor as soft as possible, letting Harry curl up under the thinnest blanket.

The storm grew fiercer as the night wore on. Harry couldn't sleep. In return, he was trying to recover, his stomach was hungry. Dudley's snoring was muffled by lightning that began near midnight. A lighted Dudley clock, hung on his thick wrist at the edge of the bed, told Harry he would be eleven in ten minutes. The author of the letter wondered where Durslees' memory was and wondered where it was now.

Five minutes left. Harry heard something outside. He hoped that the roof would not collapse and that it would become even warmer if it fell.

There are four minutes left. When you get home privately, it may already be full of letters that can be stolen.

Three more minutes. Is the sea torn on a rock like this? (Two minutes left) Sounds like a funny joke? Did the rock fall into the sea?

There are eleven minutes left, it will be eleven. Thirty seconds ... twenty ... ten ... nine - maybe they woke Dudley upset - three ... two ... one ...

Boom.

All the chains were stretched and Harry looked straight at the door. Someone came out and beat me to come in.


End file.
